


Lost and Stranded

by JunkerFawkes, PumpkinSpite



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Before Overwatch, Before Overwatch AU, Collaboration, Eventual Smut, Fluff, M/M, Overwatch - Freeform, Romance, boombox, might add tags later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-22 10:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8282639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JunkerFawkes/pseuds/JunkerFawkes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinSpite/pseuds/PumpkinSpite
Summary: It's five years before the Recall - and somewhere in the middle of the Outback a rebellious Brazilian DJ finds himself in a prison cell with a young Junker.A Shared-Past-AU collab fic! Please enjoy!Comments are wanted and welcome!





	1. Prison cell

“Pissin' wankers, I'll skin those drongos with a spoon when I get them!”

The young man called Junkrat has done nothing but jag at his handcuffs for the past half hour since he was put into that cell. Only now did he take a break to scan his surroundings.  
The inside of a cell wasn't new to him, but this one hadn't had prisoners in a while. The floor was covered in dust, here and there was a spider. Big ones. The bed and the sink were gone. Someone pissed onto the mattress they made him sit on. Gross.  
Bound to the wall, blood crusting up on his sweaty face, he finally leaned against the concrete, that seemed incredibly cold compared to the Australian air.

The most interesting part of the cell was, that he wasn't alone.

The guy's shirt was torn and just as dirty as the shorts he was wearing, that must have been green before they were covered in sand and blood. Wild strands of his dark locks covered his face.  
“Oi! You there!” the Blonde yelled over to him.  
A groan came from the depth of the other guy's throat and Junkrat visibly twitched from that.  
“Sorry...” he muttered, trying to wind back on the high pitch. “I was just startin' to think ya can't even speak, mate.”  
The black man closed his eyes, probably to shield them from the little light that crept into the cell through the smallest window in existence.  
“Sooo...” the blonde one said and stretched that vowel like chewing gum. “What did ya do to piss off those cunts?”  
“I didn't do anything.” the guy mumbled. He sounded annoyed and stressed out. He obviously wasn't really in the mood of talking.  
The Blonde was tapping both of his feet nervously and tried to catch a glimpse of the other's face, that was still hidden behind a curtain of curls and closed eye lids.  
“Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say, right? I didn't do this, didn't do that, I was just passin' by, officer, I swear.”  
His chains rattled again.  
“I was just passin' by, too, ya know. Just tried to get a snack. Haven't chewed something proper since...I dunno, last week? Lost track. Anyway, I tried to nick somethin' from those drongos. Now they wanna sell me arm. Hah! As if one can of beans less would be worth the fuss.”

Slowly the other one tried to lift his head again and opened his eyes.  
Deep, rich and brown. And tired.  
They seemed to shine.  
Or were they wet from crying?  
Strange and intriguing.

Junkrat looked around the cell again. “Okay, mate, listen.” the Blonde started, as if the other one hasn't been listening before. “Those fine blokes and sheilas out there aren't exactly happy about either of us being here, it seems. So if ya don't mind, I could use some help.”  
The black man tilted his head to the side, a numb expression on his face.  
There was a light falling through the small window somewhere up top the wall, dust specks fluttered while the light illuminated a part of the black man’s face. He was young, probably mid-twenties, and the light showed parts of his face that suggested handsomeness. Not that the blonde could see it properly in the all enveloping darkness around them.  
“I don’t help the likes of you.” the man mumbled.  
“Well you can just piss off then. I’ll get out of here by meself.” Junkrat hissed, wrists wriggling in the chains. The dark skinned man scoffed.  
“And just how are you going to do that?”  
“You didn’t wanna help so I’m not tellin’.” Junkrat said, dignified. He twisted his arm, the metal part of it coming loose easily. The arm flopped down uselessly, leaving Junkrat with just a stump, but it gave him the freedom to turn his body and then reattach his arm, cleverly crossing the chains before putting his foot out and taking the small metal end of his shoelaces, pushing it in the lock. 

“Oh come on you really think that’ll work?” the black man frowned. The blonde just smiled triumphantly as his remark was followed by a click, the lock on the blonde’s handcuffs coming loose. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”  
“This ain’t the first time I’m doing this, mate.” Junkrat grinned.  
“Well are you just going to leave me here?”  
“Nah, I ain’t that kind of guy. C’mere.” Junkrat knelled with the darker man and undid his bounds the same way he had his. “What’s your name?”  
“It’s Lúcio. Yours?”  
“Junkrat.”  
“Thank you, Junkrat.” Lúcio mumbled as he flexed his wrists. “Any further plans to get out of here?”  
“None whatsoever mate. We’ll improvise. It’ll be fine, you’ll see!” Junkrat said, hands confidently resting on his hips. “At least you stopped being a cunt!”  
“What?” Lucio frowned.  
The Blonde ignored the snappy tune of Lúcio, trying to reach the window, which was pretty easy for him, considering his height. Standing on his tiptoes, he tried to make out the surroundings.  
There was sand, of course, a few dead trees, there was a very sad looking cactus, lots of boney bushes.  
Next to said bushes were a few rugged looking tents, made of stitched-up cloth and hand-made leather. There was a fire, protected by a ring of rocks, over which hang a used looking pot. Nothing was cooking in it though. He could see the outline of what looked like a used jeep.  
Perfect.

“They got some wheels.” he muttered and turned back to his new friend, who had tried to push and pull on the cell’s lock. “Best chance ta get away is get that piece o’ junk and drive it straight outta the Simpson.”  
“What are you talking about?” the black man sneered back, still trying to open the door.  
“The Simpson? Ya know, here? Simpson Desert?”  
A slow turn and tired look from Lúcio.  
“Ya...are not a Bushie, I guess.” Junkrat concluded correctly, making an awkward face.  
“I’m Brazilian.” was the only answer Lúcio seemed to muster up. Fair enough.  
“What’s a Brazilian doin’ in the flippin’ Outback?”  
“None. Of. Your. Business.”  
Every word Lúcio said was emphasized, as if he tried to hammer it into the Junker’s mind. Said Junker groaned to himself. For once in his lifetime, he tried to be nice and reasonable, and yet people keep pissing onto his feet. Must be his luck. He gently pushed the smaller man aside, making room for him to bend down to the lock, inspecting it closely. His metallic finger tipped against the rusted keyhole. “If only I had me kit…”  
He looked up from his squat to his cell mate.  
The sun was shining through the tiny window directly into his eyes now, so he had to shield them from the bright light. His nails were clean, but the hands looked used, tiny scratches covering the knuckles. His arms were muscular, something you wouldn’t expect from a fellow of his height. He was about a foot smaller than the Blonde, so kneeling like this almost brought him in line of sight with the other’s chest, on which he now saw a stylized symbol.  
“That a frog?” he asked, trying to fiddle around with the shoelace. While they were stuck here, they might as well have some small talk. Junkrat rarely had someone who listened to his ramblings that was actually able to answer.

“Yeah.” Lucio nodded. Well that wasn’t the conversation starter Junkrat had hoped for.  
“Why a frog?” If he had to drag it out of the man then he bloody would. Lucio just shrugged.  
“Because I like frogs.”  
“No reason, then?”  
“Nope.”

Junkrat could tell Lucio was lying, but he supposed it didn’t matter for the time being. He thought for a moment, then an idea dawned on him.  
If the keyhole was rusted like that, than maybe…  
“Come on here!” the tall one said and walked over to the window side, followed by Lúcio’s confused look.  
Junkrat dropped down on his knees under the window, palms flat onto the ground, his back straightened a bit to make a solid bridge.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Ya climb up and check those bars. Maybe ya can jam the out or somethin’, with all that rust onto them.”  
“You’re kidding. I’ll never reach those.”  
“It’s that or I throw you against the door. Your choice, pretty boy.”  
That probably sounded more like a threat than anything else, because the Brazilian gave him a short look, that switched between shock, fear and annoyance within seconds.  
Lúcio followed the Blonde and looked down to him. “If you let me fall, I’ll kick you in the nuts.”  
“Ya wouldn’t be the first one to do that.”

The soles of Lúcio’s boots dug deep into the thin skin of the Blonde, making him grind his used teeth a little. The Brazilian was surprisingly light, with all those muscles he expected him to be a bit more massive. When the small one jagged onto the rotten bars, Junkrat rocked a little onto his limbs under his movements.  
After a minute or two, a quiet creak came from the old metal.  
“Got it!”  
The bars plus frame dropped down in front of Junkrat’s face, barely scraping his long nose.  
“Oi! Watch out where ya throw that!” he commented and felt the soles lift off from his back.  
He looked up and saw how the Brazilian tried to force himself through the square-shaped hole in the wall, legs hanging down about half a feet above his back now. It almost looked funny, if they were not in life-threatening danger.  
Junkrat sat back up and gave Lúcio a push. Well, Lúcio’s butt. Rude.  
It did the trick. The Brazilian slipped through the hole and safely landed on the ground on the other side. A simple hop did the trick for the two-meter-Junker, who followed the other’s example and wiggled his long body through the tiny escape way. His landing wasn’t half as elegant though. Face first, he fell into the dirt, right next to Lúcio, who just coughed from the dust his cell mate swirled up.  
“Ah, piss.” Junkrat muttered, working himself up again from the sandy ground, wiping some of the dust out of his eyes. “Well, that was easy, now we just gotta - hey!”  
Kneeling against the wall, still trying to recover from his fall, the Junker watched how the guy named Lúcio just turned on his heels and tried to walk off, away from the many tents not far away from them.  
“Where do you think ya goin’?” the Blonde asked, trying to stand up, but needing the support of the prison’s wall.  
Lúcio turned around and gave him the stink eye. “I’m leaving.”  
“I see that. But where to? There’s nothin’ here ta go to.”

Lucio didn’t respond and kept walking, Junkrat groaning as he followed him. His hand snatched Lucio’s elbow and spun him around, pulling him behind some cover.  
“Ya won’t last a minute if you go about it this way!” he hissed. “Wouldn’t want to waste that pretty face on one of their bullets, now would we?”  
“Do you have a better idea?” Lucio hissed.  
“Yes! Now if you’ll stop being a stubborn piece of shit and listen, I’ve done this a million times, so just follow my lead, all right?” Junkrat snarled and Lucio gave him an annoyed look.  
“So what’s the master plan then? And don’t touch me.” he swatted Junkrat’s hand off his arm.  
“They’ve got a truck. I can hotwire it. But we need a distraction so they won’t just shoot me while I do that.”  
“Oh, and I suppose that’s my job.” Lucio groaned. “How can I trust you not to drive off and leave me here?!”  
“You can’t.” Junkrat said, simply. “But you can’t hotwire a car and I can’t leave without a distraction. Like it or not, we need each other to get out of this place. Now stop being pissy and help me think of a good diversion!”

Lucio rolled his eyes and looked around, seeing the camp of their captors not much further down from where they were hiding. He saw they had attack dogs, as well as stashes of weapons, a few of the people lingering near their tents. Shit, there was no way they’d get out unseen. 

His unwanted companion pushed the young man behind one of the tents, watching the backs of two Junkers, one with a dirty bandana around his bald head, the other covered from head to toe in leather and a shotgun in her hands. Junkrat let out a silent grunt, quiet enough to mistake it for one of the dogs huffing.  
“Ya good with animals?”  
The Junker felt a judgmental look from the side.  
“You want me to get one of the dogs?”  
“If we are lucky, they are not trained ta eat human.”  
Awkward silence.  
“What if they do?”  
“Well, than...don’t let them bite ya? But gettin’ some of the dogs loose might be the easiest way.”  
The small man had to admit to himself, that the tall one had a point. Just running into their sight would probably end up with a bullet between his ribs. Making a noise might just get the attention of too many of the bunch. The dogs were already yapping and barking and pulling on their chains, no one would think someone let them loose. They might think, the chain just broke off. It would buy them some time.  
Lúcio looked at Junkrat. “If you drive off without me, I’ll kill you.”  
“No need ta threaten me, mate. Ya can’t scare me anyways.”

They parted ways. Junkrat slid along the back on the tent to the left, closer to the metal frame he previously called a car. As he dove down behind a crate, out of his sight, Lúcio crawled the other way around, slowly towards the barking noises.  
It was only two dogs, thankfully. With a crew of six Junkers, you wouldn’t expect them to have any more. The two mongrels, that looked like one of their parents must have been a bulldog and the other a German Shepard, were playing, biting down each other and boxing their paws against their thin bodies. They looked awfully peaceful for a bunch of bloodhounds.  
A quick look around and Lúcio found a little rock.  
Perfect. He always had a good throwing arm.  
He slowly approached the stake in the ground, which pinned down the dog’s chains. The animals were too distracted by themselves to even realize Lúcio laying in the dirt three feet behind them, making them loose.  
Now, to get their attention.  
Lúcio picked up the stone and threw it away, as far as he could, to hit the skeletonized bush on the other side of the camp.  
Score.  
The dogs let go of each other and ran towards the bush. As soon as they realized their new freedom in movement, the animals started to jump around happily, up and down, toying with each other.  
Lúcio couldn’t help but chuckle. That’s kind of endearing.  


He retrieved behind the tent again, slowly making his way after Junkrat. From the silent, angry mumbles coming from the fireplace, as the Junkers got up to follow their animals.  
The Blonde had opened the door and hang with his long feet out of the foot well, wires coming from the console under the steering wheel. He pulled his long body up to the driver’s seat and looked around in panic, until he finally caught sight of Lúcio. He waved him closer, mouthing the words “I got it”. Hopefully he was right.  
Hunched behind the crates he made his way towards the car, the Junkers finally seem to recollect their pets. They have to hurry.  
A short sprint, that made him almost trip, and he was through the door on the back seat of the used jeep, that lacked most of its roof and any windows. Only the front was covered by a scratched glass front. The padding stank of sweat and smoke.  
“Just a lil’ more…” the Blonde muttered, diving into the footwell again.  
“A little more, what?” Lúcio asked, closing the door and failed to do this as quiet as possible.  
As if to answer the question, the car arouse with a sparkling, electric noise, making the Blonde jump. He burned himself on a wire.  
Great. They definitely heard that. He could hear them yelling things in thick Australian accents and none of them sounded friendly.  
A loud screech, the smell of burned rubber, dust and sand started to cloud up.  
Lúcio was sent into the seats by the centrifugal force of the car, when Junkrat started the vehicle, the foot pressed hard onto the gas pedal.  
Lúcio’s head started to spin. He hit against the car door, when they took off.  
In the far distance, he heard the dog’s barking and a shotgun being shot, before he lost consciousness.


	2. The middle of nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes made a safe escape, but their journey has only just began...right?

Junkrat snapped out of his deep sleep. The noise behind him startled him.  
Confused he looked around, his eyes still sleepy and bruning from the light of the sun shining onto the roofless car.  
The back seat was empty.  
He turned his head and looked through the non-existing side window of the jeep.  
There he goes, that pretty boy. Stumbling over the dry ground and rocks, towards the broken asphalt through the dawn.  
Junkrat groaned. He drove through the whole night. It was a smooth, but uneasy escape. The Junkers still followed them for a few miles, before they lost their breath. Left a few holes in the back side with their shotguns probably. Thankfully they didn’t hit the fuel. Dumb luck saved them more than actual skill last night.  
The Blonde climbed out of the car and watched the Brazilian’s backside.  
“Oi! Where are ya goin’?”  
A reasonable question actually. They were in the middle of nowhere, probably 50 miles away from the next settlement. Well, the next peaceful settlement.

Where was he going? Lucio wanted to ask if it wasn’t obvious.  
“Away.”  
“Next town isn’t for 100 miles.” Junkrat frowned. “Ya won’t make it without transport or supplies.”  
He had a point. Still, Lucio just wanted to get away from this place.  
“I have to go to a concert. In Sydney. I can’t miss it.” he said.  
“Why not? Need ta get an autograph from your favourite artist?” Junkrat scoffed.  
“No. I am the artist featured in the concert.” Lucio sighed. “I can’t disappoint my fans. They’ve paid for their tickets, I can’t just not show up.”  
“Ah.” Junkrat said, thinking for a moment. “Well, we’re at least 500 miles from Sydney here. When’s your concert?”  
“In three days.”  
“Easy. I’ll drive ya there!” Junkrat smirked.  
“You will?”  
“Yes. But I expect compensation for me services.” Junkrat’s smirk grew wider when he saw the realisation in Lucio’s eyes.  
“Oh. You want money.” Lucio sighed. He should have seen that one coming.  
“‘Course! Surely ya can afford to pay me a lil’ for drivin’ you 500 miles to the damned city, yeah? You’re an artist. And artists make money.” Junkrat said, wiggling his eyebrows.  
“Actually I don’t make much. I price my tickets just high enough to pay the people involved, don’t get to keep much myself.” Lucio shrugged. “But if it’s money you want, sure. I’ll pay you. Just get me out of here.”  
“Can do. 500 miles is easily covered in three days. Might wanna get some sleep though. Best be rested for the journey.” and with that advice, Junkrat went back to what he’d been doing, namely sleeping. Lucio sighed. He supposed he didn’t have all that much choice in the matter.  
He settled in the back of the van, hoping no one would find them during the night. 

Come morning, he woke up when the engine started, the van starting to rumble as they drove off. He groaned in malcontent, looking up to see Junkrat driving. The sun wasn’t up yet, what time was it? Lucio sighed and stretched out, Junkrat giving him a look through the rear view mirror. 

“Morning sunshine.” he joked, smiling with a tease. Lucio rolled his eyes and flopped back on the backseat.  
“What time is it?” he muttered.  
“No clue. Figured we should get goin’ as soon as possible though, now the sun’s up.” Junkrat shrugged.  
“How long you figure it’ll take before we get to Sydney?” Lucio asked.  
“About a day, if nothin’ happens. That’s a big if out here, though.” Junkrat said.  
“You have much experience with it?”  
“Lived here all me life.” Junkrat nodded. “It’s rough out here. Too rough for a pretty boy like you.”  
“I can handle myself.” Lucio insisted with an annoyed frown.  
“All evidence to the contrary.”  
“What?” Lucio frowned.  
“Ya got yourself nicked, then nearly got yourself killed, and you’d still be in that cell if not for little old me.” Junkrat said, smirking arrogantly.  
“You’d still be in that cell if not for me either.” Lucio retorted. “And you couldn’t have made that escape on your own. Besides, you were captured too. So I think you have no right to judge.”  
Junkrat didn’t respond, driving on in silence. Lucio, satisfied that he’d shut the stubborn junker up, closed his eyes and tried to get a bit more sleep. 

With the hobbling van and the humming Junker up front that wasn’t easy, but at least he was able to relax a little bit. Finally.  
They were driving, they were on their way. He’d be in Sydney at the end of the day or perhaps somewhere tomorrow. He’d get a hotel, a clean bed, a shower, and plenty of rest. He just had to tolerate this situation for a little bit longer. 

Silence fell over the vehicle. Junkrat was anything but a safe driver, so the vehicle was shaking around quite a lot. It made Lúcio a little sick to the stomach and worried, that any moment the car might break down. He patted over the seat. Maybe there was a safety belt somewhere.

His mind started to wander.  
Maybe he should have listened to his mother. She was worried, when she heard his first bigger concert would be in Sydney. He has never been outside of the country before. Why did it have to be Australia, she said. She knew like everyone else, that Australia was divided. She was scared. Of course she was. He was her only son. His sister was still a teenager. Barely survived the last bigger riots he went to with her. She doesn’t deserve another loss.  
He should have known. He should have known there would be a problem with the plane. That they had to make an emergency landing. That as soon as they hit the ground, those...assholes would come and take them away.  
He tried to hold back a sob. Hopefully Erico and Maria were okay. He hasn’t seen them since the Junkers knocked him out. Next thing he remembered was breathing in the dust of the cell.

He had enough of watching the rocks and dry ground pass by. It didn’t help his watery eyes.  
Lúcio looked up, into the rear view mirror. For the first time since they met he took the time to actually look at Junkrat’s features.  
The rat part of his name seemed oddly fitting. His chin was long and pointy, just like his nose. His eyes were framed by dark shadows, as if he hasn’t slept well for years. Or ever. His milky skin seemed to be covered in spots and Lúcio couldn’t tell, which spot was a birthmark, which one an uneven tan and which one dirt. His lanky, tall figure would have made him look incredibly fragile, if it wasn’t for his muscular shoulders and arms. With the dry-looking blonde hair, that grew out of his head in uneven patterns, leaving a bald spot here and there, he reminded him more of a scarecrow than an actual human. Calling him handsome would be a disgrace to the meaning of that word.  
And yet, Lúcio was mesmerized by Junkrat.  
He has never seen such bright eyes before. They were bright brown, almost orange. Like coals gleaming in a fire.  
He started to notice tiny details, like the weak stubble right on the tip of his chin. As if trying to grow a beard, but genetics were failing him.  
He huffed amused. He can relate.

The huff made Junkrat look up into the mirror.  
“What?” he asked, as their eyes met for a split second. Lúcio turned his head, back to the window again.  
“I just noticed you look like a scarecrow.” the musician admitted and pulled one of his legs up to his chest, watching dry bushes passing by.  
The junker chuckled quietly. “Not the worst thing someone called me, ta be honest. Heard the f word more often than I can count.”  
“F word?”  
“Faggot.”  
Lúcio paused for a moment, trying to process what the Blonde just said.  
“But ya probably hear stupid stuff all the time, too, huh? Like, ‘bout ya skin and ya hair and all. I know some folks, they don’t like black people. Like at all. Dunno what they did ta them, but they hate them like the pest. Don’t think those guys are around anymore though.”  
Another pause. Junkrat really liked talking, Lúcio figured. He probably liked the sound of his voice. Or he was happy that someone might be listening? Who knows.

His eyes went back to the street. Or rather they way they were driving at.  
“So...ya from Brazil, ya said?” he began again, “Heard there some tough shit goin’ on there.”  
Lúcio looked up to the mirror again. “You know about that?”  
“Oi. Just ‘cause we live in a radiated area doesn’t mean we got no clue what’s goin’ on on the other side of the world, mate! We still got TV and radio and all. If ya get reception or one of those boxes ta work is another story. But yeah, I know. Riots still goin’?”  
Lúcio was suddenly very interested of his shoelaces, as his eyes darted directly towards them.  
“Every week. Used to be every day a while back.”  
“Still ‘cause that Wishi...Washi...whatever thing wanted ta plug a buildin’ somewhere?”  
“Vishkar.”  
“Ah, yeah, that was the name.”  
“They still build. Never stopped building actually. But at least they stay out of the favelas. For now.”  
“Whatever that is.”  
“The slums.”  
“Is it nice there?”  
The Brazilian huffed. “Nicer than here. At least you don’t have to worry to get sand everywhere.”  
“Have ya been there?”  
“Where?”  
“In the riots. Heard lots of young folk organized them...you’re young folk, aren’t ya?”  
“Why do you ask?”  
The Blonde shrugged, his fingers started to tip against the steering wheel. “Dunno. Think it’s cool those guys don’t let suits piss on them. They fight for their home and all. Kinda nice.”  
Lúcio scratched an itch on his neck. It was weird to hear someone talk to him about the riots. Someone disconnected to it that is. Sometimes he talked with Maria and Erico about it. They were in there, too, before they became his managers. They helped him organize his first concerts. And his first protests. His influence in the favela still lingered, even after all those years.  
Sometimes he felt like an old man. Like he has already seen enough of the world to know better. He knew people. Especially rich people. People like Vishkar. People who just take and take and never give.  
Lúcio played with the end of one of his cornrows. “I helped organize a few of them actually.”  
“Ya did?”  
The Junker sounded honestly impressed.  
“Ya don’t look like a revolution fighter ta me, mate.”  
“Did you expect an angry man with a beard?”  
“Nah. Dunno what I expected ta be honest. Never met a freedom fighter before.”  
“Well c’mon, what did you think they’d look like?” Lucio asked, curious.  
“I dunno! Maybe, like an eyepatch or somethin’, I don’t know!” Junkrat giggled at his own idea of a freedom fighter. “Ya know, when I was a kid, I watched the Overwatch promotion on the T.V. and I always thought I’d like to be like that one day. Someone who fights for the people. To make the world a better place. But yeah, then things went kind of tits up and all that became important was survival.” Junkrat sighed deeply. “I couldn’t be like you.”  
“I think you can.” Lucio said. “Just because your life didn’t start out great doesn’t mean you don’t have to power to achieve what you want.”  
“That’s some inspirational words right there! Spoken like a true rebel!” Junkrat grinned.  
“I mean it.” Lucio said, and he almost instinctively reached for Junkrat’s shoulder, hand resting there in an encouraging gesture.  
Junkrat turned to look over his shoulder, eyes wide with shock. Lucio just smiled and nodded as if saying he wasn’t going to take those words back, he wasn’t joking. Junkrat finally returned the smile and his face seemed to soften up somewhat.  
“Thanks, mate.” he said, and it sounded genuine. Lucio sat back and removed his hand from Junkrat’s shoulder, wiping the soot on his pants while Junkrat focused on the road again. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all, Lucio thought. Bit rough around the edges, maybe. He guessed living here would do that to a person. 

Suddenly there was a rattling. Almost like a coughing.  
At first Lúcio though Junkrat might have breathed in some insect, but then he heard him curse.  
“Oh, son of a - “ he muttered and stopped the car, causing the wheels to almost yell in pain.  
“What’s wrong?” Lúcio asked, leaning over to look past Junkrat’s shoulder.  
“Motor’s actin’ up.” he grumbled and opened the door to his side, sliding out of the vehicle and to the front. Lúcio watched him open up the hood. A cloud of thick, black smoke emerged from it, coating the Blonde into it. He started to cough and swear again.  
“Change of plan, Lulu!” Junkrat wiped a tear from his eye as he emerged from the smoke cloud. “Hope you’re strong.”

“How far to the next settlement?” Lucio panted as they pushed the car along the road, no easy feat with all the hobbles and cracks.  
“It’s right there, maybe a mile or two.” Junkrat pointed to the settlement on the trembling horizon ahead of them, a formation of old, ruined buildings.  
“Oh good. Just two more miles of misery.” Lucio chuckled through his heavy breathing. Junkrat rolled his eyes, one hand on the wheel to keep the car going straight, the other on the opened door to help pushing. 

“Well, there is an upside.” Junkrat said, wiping sweat from his brow.  
“Do tell.” Lucio groaned.  
“There’s a friend of mine livin’ in there. He’s got tools that I can use to fix this thing, and I’m pretty sure he won’t mind too much if we spend the night. Might even have some fresh food and drink.” Junkrat shrugged.  
“I’ll take what I can get.” Lucio sighed. “And stop slacking! I’m pushing this thing by myself here!”  
“Ya watch where ya throw your accusations.” Junkrat retorted, the two unlikely partners pushing their broken van along.


	3. A decaying house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally the boys reached a shelter. It's time to take a breather...

The settlement was nice enough, as far as decrepit villages in the Outback went. Buildings made of and fixed with iron plating and discarded wood, littered with old nails. Old blankets were used as doors, fluttering in the wind. Everything was covered with dust, sand and heat. The road went straight through the village, but Lucio didn’t suppose they saw much traffic at all.   
They were watched, some curious, others more hostile. He had to stand out, he realized. His clothes were still obviously of better make than the clothes of the locals, his shiny green top being the thing that seemed to attract attention. 

They pushed the van onto someone’s driveway, at least that’s what Lucio thought it was. It might as well have been a front yard.   
“OI Flint!” Junkrat called out. “Come out ya cunt!”  
“I thought you said you were friends.” Lucio frowned.  
“We are! That old bugger owes me a favour or two!” Junkrat grinned. Lucio’s frown intensified when the man, presumably called Flint, walked out to meet them. He looked ragged, just like everything else out here. Ripped camo pants, no shirt, but a big scarf around his neck and goggles to conceal his eyes.   
“Well if it isn’t Jamison Fawkes. Thought I’d never see you again ya heifer! How’ve you been!” Flint slapped Junkrat’s shoulder in a brotherly way, grinning when Junkrat did the same. 

“Good ta see ya mate, me and my buddy here are in a spot of trouble though, think you can help out?” Junkrat gestured towards Lucio and then at the van.   
“Oh, hadn’t seen ya there mate. Name’s Flint.” Flint came to shake Lucio’s hand and Lucio hoped it wasn’t too apparent in his face that he was just wondering whether or not anyone in Australia actually wore a shirt.  
“Hi. I’m Lucio.” he said, forcing a smile.   
“I’m sure I can get your car back up and running. Got all the tools I need right here.” Flint gestured to the building behind him.   
“Oh yeah, that’s not the problem. I can fix that thing no worries, I was just hoping we could stay the night, get some food in our bellies? It’s been a good while since we had anything proper.” Junkrat smiled.  
“Of course. I still owe you for that time you saved my home. Go on in and help yourself!” Flint nodded, Lucio quick to follow that direction. He was absolutely starving.  
“Oh, but watch Ro! Old lady can be a bit of a hag!”  
“Ro?”

The moment Lúcio stood in front of the cloth-covered door, he knew what Flint was talking about. Because someone held a shotgun under his nose.

A dark-skinned woman, that was even smaller than he was, sacrs digging into her cheeks and a halo of grey hair around her head, staring the DJ down, aiming her probably loaded weapon at him.  
“Relax, Ro!” Flint commented and pressed the shotgun down and out of Lúcio’s face.  
The old woman scrunched her nose. “Since when do ya invite strangers into our hut, Flint?”  
“Since when am I a stranger?”  
The woman almost dropped her gun, when she saw Junkrat pop up behind Lúcio.  
Her face made a grimace, that kind of resampled a smile.  
“Well, if it isn’t Mathilda’s little shit. How ya holdin’ up, Rat?”  
“With both hands?”  
“Hah, good, ya didn’t lose ya humor!”  
The little woman hit the tall boy against his thin arm and she walked back into the hut, leaving behind a still shivering Lúcio.  
The wasteland was weird.

Ro and Flint were odd people. Well, odd considering they were a couple with an age gap of thirty-two years. And considering they have been living in this ruin they call a home ever since the Core incident.  
“That was a shit day.” Ro told Lúcio, when she lit up the little, used looking camp stove in what looked like it was once the broken house’s kitchen. “Me brother, he was the revolution guy. Always wanted ta save the world. What did it get him? Dead is what it got him. Very dead. Dickhead’s fault the core exploded, just like all the other blokes from the ALF.”  
“ALF?”  
“Australian Liberation Front. Course ya don’t remember, ya probably weren’t even alive back then.” she replied, struggling to open what looked like canned peaches of all things with a knife. “Government gave chunks of the Outback ta the Omnics. Made the farmers livin’ there pretty mad. So they formed a rebellion. Or party whatever. In the end they just caused trouble.” The small woman sniffed at the now open can and made a little face. “What doesn’t kill ya…”  
“Stop forcing your political agenda onto the youth, Ro!” Flint yelled at her from the other side of the room, where ‘Jamison’ was helping him get his tools.  
“Ya can’t tell me what ta do!”  
Lúcio was strangely endeared by those two. They seem to have been a team for quite a while. They got along well, even though they threw insults at each other. He assumed it to be custom between Junkers by now. But than again he never really met any Junkers before his run-in with Junkrat.  
“You know, you Outsiders, you think all Junkers are the same.” Flint complained at him, when they sat together, both him and Junkrat even more covered in dirt than before. The car must have been very leaky. “The media never dares to go any deeper into the Outback than to Junkertown. And of course they think everything is shit here. Junkertown is a cesspit of a place. Old Man Witters, two huts up the road? He made a little field. The potatoes his family grows? They are edible. Huge but edible. Ro’s been trying to get some tomatoes growing recently. No one cares about us. No one believes we are doing fine. No one thinks we just want our peace, because all they know is Junkertown and Junkertown is the piss.”  
Lúcio nodded, chewing on a piece of cooked potato in a peachy sauce. It wasn’t flavorful, but it was food. And for Flint and Ro, this was probably something really fancy.

As fast as the day came, it was over just as quickly. It seemed like time was ticking differently in the Outback. Or maybe it just felt like that for Lúcio. Ro kept him busy with her stories about the ALF and Flint showed around his prized possession, an old radio that he fixed up to actually play some music and an old radio set, which was even older than Ro and still functioned brilliantly.  
The night sky was surprisingly clear. It invited him to go outside. Ro and Flint already found their way to their basement and into their beds, but Lúcio - he was wide awake. So many new impressions, so many new things.

“Oi, Froggy!”  
A quick turn of the head. Oh yes, Junkrat. He was still awake, too, sitting on a big old mattress himself. His face was pointed up to the roof. A big hole gaped through it, opening up a round window to the night sky.  
“Sky’s lookin’ great tonight.” he muttered, laying down flat. Lúcio nodded, walking over to his odd companion. In the dim light of the hut, his silhouette looked even sharper than before.  
“Yeah.” he said and placed himself on the ground, a few inches away from the Blonde, but still close enough to be on the mattress.  
“Ro and Flint are nice.”  
“Right? Ro was friendlier than usual though. I think she likes ya.”  
Lúcio snorted.  
For a while, there was silence again. Not awkward as it was before. More sagging, as if the atmosphere between them was slowly lifted off their shoulders.  
There they were, the Junker and the DJ. Two worlds colliding, yet somehow co-existing without punching each other in the face.

Lúcio tilted his head a bit and looked at the Blonde.   
“Can I ask you something?”  
“Sure.”  
The DJ shifted a little on his back. The mattress was anything but comfortable.  
“Junkrat is not your real name?”  
“Sure it is. People call me like that and I react ta it. Makes it my name, no?”  
“Yes, but it’s more like a nickname, right? Flint called you Ja -”  
“I know. I know. It’s me Junker name.” the Blonde said and started to fiddle around on the wrist connection of his prosthesis. Lúcio already picked up on that tick of his. He can’t hold his hands still for five minutes. It’s quite unnerving at times.  
“Junkers give each other names?”  
“Yeah, ya know? Sometimes ya just work together for small jobs. Ya do one thing, grab your share and leave. Hard to keep all those names. Flint and Ro ain’t their real name, too.”  
“But why Junkrat?”  
The Blonde fell silent for a moment, as if pondering his reply. He started to rub the stubble on his chin.  
“Cause me Ma gave me that name?”  
“Your mother?”  
“No, no, me Ma. Completely different thing!”  
“Uh, but...Ma means mother, no?”  
“She raised me, yeah, but she ain’t me mother. Just raised me. Like I was her kid, ya know? Don’t think she had kids on her own, before everythin’ went ta shit with the core and all.”  
Lúcio nodded.  
“Than...why did your Ma call you Junkrat?”  
“‘Cause that’s what I was? We were scavengers. Used to dig through dumpsters and shit for metal and drone parts and all that jazz. I was a nimble kid, she said. Nimble like a rat. So she called me a junk rat. Liked the ring of that, so it became me name.”  
Lúcio chuckled. That almost sounded cute. His ‘Ma’ must be a very funny person. Considering Junkrat looked more like a weasel to him now. But then again, maybe he was a lot smaller as a child. And even slimmer. Less muscles and all.  
“Does your Ma have a Junker name, too?”  
“Well, everyone just called her Ma anyway, so she just went with that. She wasn’t exactly picky.”  
“Wasn’t?”  
The moment Lúcio finished forming that word, he already figured out, why Junkrat used past tense. The dull look in his eyes was just too familiar. His mother always got this look in her eyes, when he asked her about his father.  
“I’m...sorry, I didn’t want to…”  
“It’s fine.” Junkrat replied and looked up into the night sky. A few silky clouds hid the stars above them. The Junker took a deep breath through his nose. It almost sounded like a sob to Lúcio.  
“Ya know…” the Blonde began, and for the first time since they met, his voice wasn’t shifting rapidly in pitch. His voice was calm, soft almost. “Me Ma took me in when I was seven. Can’t really remember, how she found me. I remember me begetter just left me alone one day and I wandered off alone. We lived in that settlement for a while. New Bendigo. Boring place. That’s where me Ma met Ro. They used ta date, ya know, until Ro ran into Flint. I used ta sell parts here and there. Sometimes drugs. Tried ta get on meds for Ma as much as I could. Radiation caught up with her, ya know. Had ta bury her last year. Think it was last year. Dunno. Lost track of time since I left home…”  
The word ‘home’ almost sounded like a hum, as if it weighed heavy on his tongue.  
Lúcio stared at the Junker’s profile, unsure how to react. He slowly pulled his knees closer to his chest.  
“When Vishkar came into our favela,” he suddenly began, “They dragged people out of their houses. My sis and I, we were in school that day. One of them got into a fight with my father. He never really recovered from his head injury. They put him into a coma. And when we couldn’t pay anymore…”  
He broke off the sentence before his voice broke itself. His dad has been dead for almost ten years now and it still hurts. Many people accused him of letting his feelings guide his efforts to fight against Vishkar. They think what he does was a personal agenda. But how can you not get emotional, when your friends, your family, your people, get forced out of their houses and even killed? How can you not get angry?  
“Sorry, mate.” came in a dry tune from the Blonde. But it sounded honest. “Losin’ family is shit.”  
“You tell me.”

There they were again. Those gleaming eyes. Their orange color seemed so unnatural, almost like a pair of reflectors. Even though his expression was calm now, it gave him an almost animalistic look.  
Lúcio caught himself staring at Junkrat again. For some reason, he felt the urge to stretch out his hand and touch the other’s cheek, but he was scared he might cut himself on his cheekbones. Plus, it would be odd to just touch a stranger on their cheek. After all he was still a stranger.

It seemed like Lúcio wasn’t the only one with that idea. Junkrat’s prosthetic arm jerked a little, lifted off the ground a few inches, but backed away quickly again. He was glad Lúcio didn’t seem to notice the way he was looking at him when he wasn’t paying attention.  
He looked so soft. Even when he looked angry or annoyed, the little guy looked soft. He was so intriguing. At first he thought it was because he rarely met people from the coast, or heck, people from a completely different continent. But a low-key interest in new faces wouldn’t cause this strange burning feeling in his gut every time he saw the Brazilian smile. Or would it?

“So...your real name…” Lúcio finally continued and scratched his neck. “Flint said it was...James Fawkes, was it?”  
“Jamison.” the Junker corrected. “I...prefer Junkrat, ta be honest with ya.”  
“Why? Jamison sounds fine. It’s a nice name.”  
A snort came from the Blonde as he looked back up to the stars. “So is Lúcio.”  
“Thanks, man.”  
Somewhere in the distance, in one of the other huts, they heard laughter. A fire was burning somewhere, keeping the laughing people warm hopefully.  
Slowly both of them lay down again. The stench of dust and old people stuck in the fabric of the mattress. And yet, the unusual bed was getting more and more softer under his back. The stars gave their best to make themselves visible through the small hole.  
It was almost romantic.  
Junkrat huffed quietly.  
As if the DJ was interested in guys…

A noise from behind them made both of them twitch and sit up straight like candles.  
It was Ro. The old woman had walked up the stairs, panting quietly. Her face looked strained.  
“Ro, ya okay?” Junkrat asked and the grey-haired woman shook her head.  
“Ya boys have ta leave. Now.”


	4. A cheap hotel room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost there...they are almost there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Low-key smut incoming! You have been warned!

Lúcio should have known something was fishy. Flint outed himself as a tech nut very early.  
Of course he would use the radio set to signal someone. Of course he would hope to get something out of this deal. Food, maybe some parts. Who knows what those things were worth out here.

 

Ro hurried to pack a few things for them. A little canteen of water, some cans with food, she even offered an old gun. Lúcio didn’t feel comfortable with carrying an old weapon, that probably was never properly cleaned.  
With Junkrat’s help, she threw all of that, bundled up in a big blanket, on the back seat.  
“Fuckin’ asshole, should have known.” the blonde cursed, “He’s still the same greedy dickhead.”  
“I’m sure he doesn’t know what he caused, boy.” Ro muttered and turned to the tall man, holding what looked like a bunch of leather belts with little containers strapped to it in her hands. “Here. Think that’s yours.”  
The Blonde took the tangled mess and looked at it with surprise. “Is that me harness?”  
“Hope ya still fit in it. Bombs should still be primed. I know ya handywork.”  
The Junker chuckled amused. “Long as they didn’t get wet. Normally me bombs don’t last a week. A year’s somethin’ else.”  
Suddenly, the woman pulled him into a hug. Due to her height, she was clinging around his belly.  
She muttered something into his chest, that made him gently pat her shoulder and give her a weak smile.  
Lúcio watched the scene from the passenger seat. Ro was a gentle woman after all.

 

Junkrat patted her on the back one more time before he turned and leapt into the driver’s seat, waving at Ro when he started the van and floored it, screeching tires smoking as they skidded over the concrete and they bolted away over the cracked concrete. 

 

“Fuckin’ wanker!” Junkrat hissed. “I should have known he’d try ta make somethin’ out of this situation! Fuckin’ cunt, honestly!” Junkrat was fuming but he softened up when he looked at Lucio, though his eyes were still flaring with anger.  
“Sorry, Lu. I never meant for ya ta get caught up in all this. Don’t worry. I’ll get ya ta Sydney in one piece. We won’t dissapoint ya fans.” he smiled and Lucio returned the gesture.  
“You think they’re hot on our tail?” Lucio asked, a little nervous.  
“An hour, maybe two. We can’t afford ta stop from here on. It’s 300 miles still though, so we will have to stop for gas at some point.” Junkrat mused. “But if we’re quick that’s no big deal.”  
“Junkrat-” Lucio thumbed his hands contemplatively. “-You think they’ll kill us? If they catch us, I mean?”  
“Might do. Then again they were hopin’ for ransom for ya, so maybe ya would be spared. Dunno why they’d spare me though.” Junkrat said, seeing the worry in Lucio’s eyes and quickly adding a little vote of confidence. “Don’t worry, this isn’t my first rodeo with these piss-stains.” he grinned.

 

“You’re so articulate.” Lucio smiled while he rolled his eyes.  
“Aren’t I?” Junkrat chuckled, hand on his his chest.  
“So, you and Ro seem close.” Lucio said, casting a glance over his shoulder and seeing the settlement dissapear in the darkness of the night.  
“Yeah. She’s like my second ma.” Junkrat smiled. “She and my ma used to date.”  
“I see.” Lucio nodded. “She seems like a good person.”  
“She is. Bitter, but her heart’s in the right place.” Junkrat nodded.  
“Won’t Flint be angry about her warning us?” Lucio asked, worried.  
“Maybe. But if he dares to touch a fuckin’ hair on her head he knows I’ll blast him and his treacherous ass straight back to the hellpit he crawled out of.” Junkrat muttered angrily. 

 

300 miles was an awful long drive, and with no stops, Lucio was glad they had to pull over to fill up the gas tank. Junkrat had been mindful enough to fill a few jerrycans and carry the gas in the car so they wouldn’t have to stop at a gas station where people could have noticed them coming through. 

 

Thank goodness the van held it’s own and by the time the sun started sinking over the horizon, Sydney appeared in their view. They left the van at the edge of the city and took a rather cheap hotel for the night, just to cover their tracks. Lucio was mainly just relieved he was in a city, with resources and shops and a room with a bed and a shower. He didn’t really care the walls were made of cheap materials, felt like cardboard or that they could hear their neighbours fight over the remote. They were warm and dry and the shower improved his mood by about 1000%. 

 

“Never understood what ya city folk shower so much for. Ya know it kills all your natural bacteria living on your skin? Ya might think you’re clean but you’re actually more susceptible to disease this way.” Junkrat mumbled while he was shaving. Lucio gave him a sarcastic frown.

 

“Well la-di-dah. Where’d you read that?” he asked, chuckling.  
“Ro taught me that.” Junkrat smiled at Lucio’s tone of voice. “But I guess this is the end of our partnership. I’ll collect me just due, please.”  
“I ah-” Lucio hesitated for a moment. “I don’t have any money on me. But I have my card. I’ll go get some money from a machine in the morning.”  
“All right. Meter’s ticking though.” Junkrat grinned.  
“That’s all right.” Lucio winked, taking Junkrat aback.  
“Don’t tell me ya actually like my company, Lulu.” Junkrat scoffed. “I know a liar when I see one.”  
“Obviously not.” Lucio insisted.  
“Pfff.” Junkrat huffed and continued shaving, a red blush becoming visible when he wiped the shaving cream off his cheeks. Lucio secretly delighted in the embarrassed Junker’s reaction, wrapping a towel around his waist and coming to stand next to him to do his hair. 

 

Junkrat quickly finished and went back to their room, not saying a word. Lucio stayed behind with a cheeky smirk, but he realized all too well their unconventional partnership would soon be over. He’d never have thought, but he was going to miss the excentric junker. He was the kind of person you’d remember for years to come. It’d be an exciting tale to tell once he got back home, of how he was captured but escaped with the help of a slightly deranged bombmaker and how they became friends as they survived the wastes of the outback together. Lucio knew full well he owed his life to Junkrat, and he contemplated giving him a little extra something when he’d go pull the cash the next morning. 

 

He got back to Junkrat sitting on the hotel bed, browsing channels on the television.  
“Hey. Ya concert’s on the news!” Junkrat said, pointing.  
“Is it? Let me see.” Lucio said, joining Junkrat on the bed. There was a whole article about his show coming to Sydney and some very dedicated fans that were already waiting in front of the stadium, actually spending the night there to get their front row places.  
“Wow, they really like you.” Junkrat said. “Why else would ya camp out for two days just to get to the front?”  
“There’s always a couple of hardcores.” Lucio smiled. “I’ll be sure to give ‘em a little extra attention during the show. That’s why they keep coming back.”  
“Creepy.” Junkrat frowned. “You never been stalked?”  
“Not yet. But it happens in this business, you’re not wrong.” Lucio nodded. 

 

Junkrat was quiet for a moment, just looking at Lucio with a strange look.  
“Well, I can see why they would. Stalk you, I mean.”  
Lucio frowned strangely. “Excuse me?”  
“Wow, okay that sounded weird!” Junkrat said, realizing it a little too late.  
“Just a little!” Lucio said, a little shocked but also laughing at Junkrat’s clumsy manners.  
“What I meant was- shit, never mind!” Junkrat shook his head in embarrassment. “Nice goin’, Fawkes!” he hissed, mainly at himself. “Sorry, Lu.”  
“It’s okay.” Lucio chuckled softly. “Did you mean to compliment me right there?”  
“Hm...maybe.” the Blonde huffed and tried to hide his face in his prosthesis. His embarrassment was endearing, how he tried to avoid his eyes by shielding his with the metal palm.  
“I mean, you’re...well...ya look good and all.”  
“And all?”  
The junker groaned almost frustrated.  
“Look, I’m not straight, okay? I see a sexy dude, I take a peek at him- or two. And you’re a really hot piece o’ ass, okay? Not ta be creepy or anythin’, but that’s what I do, I don’t exactly get ta see lots of eye candy out there!” Junkrat scratched the back of his head, cheeks bright red.  
“Like ya don’t have ta do anything with that information! But yeah, I been looking at ya! You’re kind don’t usually hang out with my kind, so, yeah.”

 

“You’re very cute.” Lucio smiled. “I’m guessing you haven’t done much flirting before?”  
“Ya guessed right.” Junkrat scoffed. “I’m sorry. Ya deserve someone better. I know that. But you know, I was kinda maybe thinking, it’s just this night, ya know? I might as well ask.”  
“Ask?” Lucio frowned.  
“If ya maybe wanted to mix business with pleasure? I dunno it’s stupid anyway. Figured I couldn’t lose anything by just asking. The worst I’d get is a no.” Junkrat shrugged.  
“You mean you’re asking me if I want to have sex with you?” Lucio’s eyes grew large, staring at the junker in front of him. “That’s absolutely ridiculous, bold and quite frankly rude. But-”  
Lucio bit his lip as he searched for the right words.  
“-Maybe I like you a bit more than I should. Maybe you’re right. It is just this night.” Lucio mused.  
“Ah, wait, for real now?” the Blonde asked, his voice again shifting in pitch. Lúcio wasn’t sure if Junkrat was scared or excited.  
“It’s fine for me. We should check for condoms first though? No way we gonna do that without protection.” Lúcio showed a lot more confidence than he would have expected from himself in such a situation. Maybe because the last few days gave him this adventurous mood. He felt bold and up to no good. Still, he doesn’t want an uncomfortable souvenir from his adventure.  
A quick look into the nightstand solved their problem. Of course a cheap motel like that was always stocked up on condoms.

Junkrat just sat there, watching the DJ move about, pushing the pillows up and blankets out of their way. The response still had to sink in.  
“If I sleep with you...does that count as a payment?” Lúcio chuckled, throwing a suggestive look at the junker.  
“What? Hell no!” he protested and crawled over the bed, a bit more towards the middle. “Gotta live from somethin’ the next weeks, mate.”  
Lucio laughed. “I’m only joking. No need to be so high-strung.” he smiled gently at Junkrat, who returned a nervous grin.  
“Sorry. I ain’t exactly experienced.” Junkrat mumbled. “I don’t really know why I asked, either. I guess I was feeling brave. I didn’t think I’d get this far!”  
“Lucky you, then.” Lúcio chuckled and patted the mattress at the space next to him.  
Slowly, almost carefully, the Junker slid over the sheet, towards the other and sat on his legs, watching Lúcio almost curiously. Lúcio couldn’t help but chuckle. He looked like a kid meeting a stranger for the first time.  
“Nervous?” he asked and reached for his cheek, his index finger stroking over the cheekbones. They didn’t cut him after all. Junkrat huffed, but the blush couldn’t be hidden. He washed off the soot in his face with the shaving creme earlier.  
This was answer enough for Lúcio. He tilted his head to the side. “No need to be. If something’s up I’ll tell you and you tell me, okay?”  
“Sure, sure, whatever.” the junker commented and suddenly moved forward, pressing his thin lips against Lúcio’s without a warning.

 

After the first shock of that brave move wore off, Lúcio gentle put his arms around Junkrat’s neck, pulling him closer into the shy kiss. He hasn’t brushed his teeth, Lúcio could tell, but he didn’t have the opportunity to do so himself, so they were even. It was obvious that Jamison was a little overwhelmed. His hands, especially the warm one, twitched around Lúcio, sometimes resting on his shoulder, than on his back, again on his shoulder, on the top of his hair and then his back again. The Brazilian dared to lean up against the tall guy, forcing him to lay down on the bed.  
The junker chuckled. “You did this before.”  
“Just a few times.” Lúcio admitted.  
“Ever did it with a groupie?”  
“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know.”  
He climbed onto his lap, slowly letting his hand run over the junker’s chest. He could feel his heartbeat through his ribs. Frantic and fast, like the movements of his hands, that nervously rubbed the sheets under him now.  
“Ya no fun.” he chuckled and tried to lift his head up, probably an attempt to steal another kiss, but Lúcio stopped him.  
“No, no. Stay put. Let me run the show.”  
His hand was still placed over Jamison’s sternum, holding him down with only little force. The junker seemed to let him have this. Frankly, he did look a little lost right now, so he probably thought it was best to listen to the DJ.  
Carefully Lúcio’s hand started to wander across his chest, counting the few ribs he could see through the junker’s skin. One, two, three pairs they were. He was so thin, it almost looked unhealthy. He seemed to shiver from the touch. Once Lúcio’s thumb brushed one of his nipples, the Blonde let out a gentle gasp, his voice unusually deep.  
“Sensitive, aren’t you?” he chuckled, continuing to brush over the junker’s chest. The Blonde replied with a silent huff and a nudge of his head to the side, eyes wandering to the nightstand. Was he really that embarrassed?  
“You really never did this before.” Lúcio said, bending a little down, one of his hands supporting his pose so his head hang over Junkrat’s.  
“That obvious, is it?” Junkrat asked, trying to cover up his anxieties with a chuckle.  
“Pretty much.” Lúcio replied, slowly sliding down from Junkrat’s lap to rest between his legs on the edge of the bed. “Thought in a lawless society like the Outback sex would be a pretty common thing.”  
“Oi, not everyone out there is an animal. Just most of them.”  
“Really? What’s the most sexual thing you’ve done so far?”  
“Eh, I gave that one chick a blowjob once. That was a weird day.”  
“You gave a chick a blowjob?”  
“Not all chicks have vaginas.”  
“Touché.”

 

Slowly Lúcio helped Jamison out of his pants. The junker’s hands were still busy stroking and tickling the sheets. Surprisingly enough, he was already half hard.  
“Geez.” Lúcio had to suppress a giggle. “Already that excited? I just tickled your chest, dude.”  
“Can ya just stop teasin’ me already?” Junkrat snapped and pressed his metal hand against Lúcio’s forehead. “Ya not makin’ it easier.”  
“Okay, okay, sorry.” Lúcio muttered, but allowed himself to grin, as his fingers gently grasped for the base.  
After a few strokes, he could already feel the Junker shaking underneath him. His ears were red and his chest was visibly expanding from deep breaths. Still, he tried to keep his cool, mumbling quietly and holding back moans.  
Lúcio looked up to him. What was he doing? Is he trying to proof something to him? That while he asked for it, he won’t give into the pleasure? If so, why?  
“You don’t look like you’re enjoying it.” suddenly dropped off of Lúcio’s lips as he paused his stroking, making Junkrat lift his head a little to look at him.  
“Heh, what?” he asked, teeth marks still visible on his own lips from biting down on them. “No. No, this is good.”  
“Than why are you so quiet?”  
“Ah.” the junker dropped back into the sheets, “Just not used ta be screamin’ ‘round during that. Usually those things go by quietly.”  
“You don’t have to be now. No one is going to hear us.”  
“Aside from the staff.”  
“Shush, will you.”  
“Oh, now I should shut up?”  
Lúcio remembered his position. A sudden motion of the hand made Junkrat’s body jolt, a surprised moan escaping from his mouth as Lúcio went back to stroking.

Five minutes later and it seemed as if the Junker already gave up all of his defences. Pulling his legs closer, his head pressed into the mattress, he run his good hand over Lúcio’s backhead, unsure if he should grab his cornrows. Damn it, why was that so good?  
Suddenly, the warm, wet feeling in his lap broke off, making him grunt in displeasure.  
Until he saw why Lúcio stopped.

 

The DJ was kneeling between his legs, sitting up to untie the towel around his hips.  
Jamie took a moment to marvel at Lúcio’s body. Similar to his, he was covered in tiny scars, some of them from cuts, some from smaller burns. Tokens of past fights, be it for freedom, for safety or just for dominance. His dark skin contrasted stark to Jamie’s freckled pale one. He was so small, too, he realized. Short yet muscular. He definitely had more abs than Jamie had. And yet, he looked tender and soft. Maybe that’s why Jamie reached out his hand to brush over the other’s cheek. He wanted to make sure that he wasn’t imagining things.  
It caused Lúcio to giggle. The Junker’s bony lanky fingers felt warm against his blush and his dazzled expression was just too cute.  
“You look like you just fell in love.” the DJ joked.  
“Maybe I just did.”  
An awkward pause, both just staring at each other, both unsure how to continue. Suddenly, there was a snort, a quiet giggle, that became a chorus of laughter, as they both started to chuckle the discomfort away.  
Lúcio bent down, placing another kiss on Jamie’s lips, this time brave and bold. The junker replied by putting his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Tongues met, breaths were drawn and fingers got tangled up in blonde hair, making Jamie weep quietly.  
He wanted more. And he got more.


	5. A street somewhere in Sydney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And suddenly, it was over...

Australia’s air was dry and warm by default. Jamie’s lungs never breathed any other air, but he never thought it could get any thinner or hotter.  
Until he met Lúcio.  
In only two days this guy managed to take away his breath, leave him speechless. It’s rare to meet a person like him in the Outback, someone this naive yet courageous, of good intent and simple nature. Lúcio was probably the first person Jamie ever met, that he would consider as beautiful.  
The way his deep obsidian eyes wandered calmly over his surroundings.  
The way his dark hair fell down to his shoulders.  
The way his hands moved.  
The way he moved in general.  
He was never so captivated by another person. Not in such a short amount of time.  
It was too bad he couldn’t stay. Just the two of them, covered in sweat, trying to get through what felt like a confusing mess of emotions and impressions. Just trying to not get too caught up with each other.  
But it was probably already too late.

 

Lúcio was still grinding onto Jamie’s lap, cheeks red of shame and exhaustion. Even with the condom, it still hurt a bit, and he didn’t expect Jamie to be this big.  
Still, it felt surprisingly good. For someone who never had sex - at least according to his own accounts - the junker was cooperating pretty well, trying to keep up with his movements, brushing his good hand over Lúcio’s glans at times.  
It was strange. He never thought he might end up having a one-night stand with...well, for lack of a better word, a criminal.  
And yet, he was having the time of his life. His face was just so precious. And he whimpered, when he stopped moving, like he was begging for him to continue.  
Lúcio never felt so influential before.  
Especially not with someone who could easily kill him.  
Someone this weird and odd and dangerous.  
Days ago, Lúcio would have never dared to call someone like Jamie handsome. But now, seeing him like this, laying under him, one hand resting on his hip, the other stretched out to cup his cheek, panting and moaning and mumbling his name, he looked like the most attractive man in the world to him.

 

Their night together was long. They lost track of time after a while. Lúcio was pretty sure the junker woke their room’s neighbours with his yelling. If they had neighbours that was.  
Sitting up in the dimmed room, the sunrise only slowly creeping up into their room, Lúcio looked at the Blonde resting in the sheets next to him. His dizzy hair was even more dizzy (how was that possible?) and his neck and chest was covered in hickeys.   
The DJ reached for his own neck. He probably had a few himself. He definitely felt the scratches on his back. Jamie was a clingy bastard.

“Like what you see?” Jamie’s sleep ridden voice rasped. He smirked arrogantly when Lucio glanced down, giving him a glare.   
“Aw, don’t give me that look.” Jamie chuckled. “You loved it.”  
“And you didn’t?” Lucio retorted.  
“Oh, yes.” Jamie confirmed with a firm nod. He sat up as well, fingers tangling in Lucio’s hair once again, like he’d done so many times before this night. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Lucio’s lips, dry lips softly grazing over each other. Lucio smiled gently.  
“Good morning, by the way.”  
“Good morning.” Jamie chuckled, lips trailing down to Lucio’s neck. “You really have to go today?”  
“Sorry.” Lucio mumbled.   
“Regrets?” Jamie asked, cautious.  
“None. Wouldn’t have missed last night for the world.” Lucio said, and he meant that. Jamie moved back to look him in the eye, amber eyes lit up by the sun that intruded through the window. He smiled, but there was a slight sadness to it.   
“Me neither.” he whispered, before coming to kiss Lucio again. Lucio ran his fingers over Jamie’s thin chest. Their lips broke apart but their bodies moved closer, a warm embrace making Lucio’s stomach tingle. 

 

“I’ll miss ya.” 

 

Lucio looked up at the junker’s sincere words, feeling a stab of pain in his chest at the sadness behind it. 

“I mean I know it’s not even been a week but I’ve grown rather fond of you.” Jamie admitted.  
“We can keep in touch.” Lucio said.  
“You’re a celebrity. I’m a criminal.” Jamie disagreed. “It’d just harm your reputation if you were seen or even associated with me. We knew that all along.”  
“I suppose we did. Doesn’t mean I have to agree with it.” Lucio complained. “I’ll miss you, too.”   
“C’mere. Just one last time, okay?” Jamie muttered, lips locking with Lucio’s. Lucio made sure it was a kiss neither of them would forget very quickly, going in hard and passionate. Jamie moaned and allowed Lucio to topple him over, thin hands stroking over dark skin. Lucio cupped Jamie’s sharp jaw, thumbs running over his cheeks while he took in the sensation for a last time. They parted with a reluctant sigh, Jamie nudging him with a small smile.

 

“Let’s get you home.”

 

Two hours later they were out on the streets, Lucio leading Jamie to the hotel where his PTR team was staying. He’d be safe with them and the concert could still be saved if they found them quickly. They were walking hand in hand, Lucio having insisted on it. He didn’t care if people saw. 

 

The hotel wasn’t hard to find, Lucio remembering the way there from before. He took a few detours, trying to convince himself that this really was for the best. They’d part here and never see eachother again. He didn’t like the thought of that one bit, but there was no way they could stay together. It was just the ruse after having spent the night with him. Just some kind of hormonal influx, probably. Lucio kept trying to convince himself of that. But eventually he ran out of detours and they ended up in front of the hotel. 

 

“This is it.” Lucio mumbled, reluctantly.   
“Al right, I guess this is where we part ways then.” Jamie said, looking a little tentative himself.   
“Yeah. Jamie, I-”  
“Shh, froggy. It’s okay.” Jamie shook his head. “I’ll-” 

 

They both looked up when a big racket stirred the street, car engines roaring and people screaming as a group of vans pulled into the street. Lucio recognized them. Junkers.   
“Shit!” Jamie swore and pulled Lucio down behind the nearest shelter they could find, waiting until the vans had passed. 

 

“Fuck, they’re actually in the city?!” Jamie hissed. “I didn’t think they’d keep following us here.”  
“Jamie-”  
“Lu, you need to find your team. You’ll be safe with them. I’ll make sure they don’t come after you and your team.”   
“Jamie, no!” Lucio said, intently. “They’ll kill you! Come with me, you’ll be safer!”  
“They won’t stop chasing me, Lu. They’ll lose interest in you once you’re guarded and safe but I broke a pact and they won’t stop until they’ve collected their debt. You need to get to safety. I’ll be okay.” Jamie said, taking Lucio by the shoulders. “I’ve faced hotter fires.”  
“Jamie-”  
“If I survive, I’ll come find you. I promise.” Jamie whispered.   
“You fucking better.” Lucio said, allowing Jamie to pull him into one last kiss. A last lingering look before the vans returned and Jamie got up. 

 

“Run, Lu.” 

 

-

 

Lucio remembered the words as if they were yesterday. He often had them on his mind in lonely hours like this, where he was alone and working on a new track. He had a whole different life now. His efforts as a freedom fighter now showed fruits. Vishkar backed out of the favelas and his career as a musician took off pretty well. Still, he felt like people saw him more as a popstar and less as someone who fought to the bone for his country.

 

Five years have passed, and since that day, Lúcio has never taken a step onto Australian ground again.  
Much to his dismay.  
It honoured Lúcio, that Winston asked him to join Overwatch in that case.   
It showed him that at least someone out there saw him as a skilled fighter for the good cause first and a musician second. His first weeks were spent getting adjusted to his new job, meeting members, settling into his dorm room, trying to juggle both making music and going on missions.  
It was kind of amazing and it gave him the feeling to make a change again.  
A change for the better.

 

It was a group meeting. Tracer called everyone in the base for it. Everyone, that was Hana - Gaming legend D.Va of all people! -, Doctor Angela Ziegler, Doctor Mei-Ling Zhou, the gunslinger McCree and Lúcio himself. Apparently Winston sent new recruits and Lena insisted on them introducing themselves to the team. A little childish, McCree commented, but anything to keep up the morale, Lúcio thought. After all they are all friends here, right?

 

Heavy footsteps walked down the alley to the meeting room, as well as a loud ticking on the floor.  
“Did Winston hire a pirate?” Hana whispered, leaning over to Lúcio, who gave her a nudge with the elbow. “Hey, be nice.”  
Around the came a mountain of a man. Big, fat and dressed in leather, he almost occupied the whole door frame. The pig mask covering his face and the enormous hook dangling from his belt made him look more like a serial killer than anything else. The other recruit had a hard time forcing himself past his colleague, grunting while doing so.

 

“Piss an’ balls, Roadie, ya in me way!”  
Lúcio jumped up from the couch, staring at the other recruit.  
He knew that voice, and it sent a shiver down his spine.  
“Jamie?”

 

The thin blonde looked at him and there was a small chortle of disbelief and a moment of recognition.

 

“Lu?”

 

There was a short silence, or maybe it seemed like silence to the both of them when they smiled at eachother. The others were introducing themselves to the big man in the mask but Lucio didn’t pay them any mind. He was trying to keep it cool. He never thought he’d see Jamie again. The feeling was overwhelming, he was surprised, happy to see he was still alive and well, not exactly in one piece. Two orange prosthetics on the right side drew Lucio’s attention. What the hell had happened?

 

“It’s good to see you again, Jamie.” Lucio said, almost too quietly as he finally approached him. He wanted to go for a handshake but Jamie had no time for games, diving in for a relieved hug.   
“And you.” the junker mumbled. “I thought we’d never see eachother again.”  
“Same here.” Lucio chuckled. “I’m glad I was wrong. What happened to your leg?”  
“Dud mine. Nothin’ too bad, don’t worry.”

“Well, seems you two have some catching up to do.” Hana frowned knowingly at Lucio who threw her a glare. “Let’s leave them to it.”  
Jamie nodded at his big friend as an assurance everything was fine, after which the man followed the rest out of the room.

 

They made a few steps outside, away from the group. It’s probably best to keep this in privacy.  
“How have you been?” Lucio asked, hands reaching out for Jamie’s but stopping halfway. It’d been five years. Jamie might not even want to be touched by him anymore. What if the feelings had disappeared between them?  
But he needn’t have been worried, Jamie grabbed Lucio’s hands, completing the earlier motion and pulling him closer.   
“Save the chatter and kiss me, ya drongo.” Jamie smirked, Lucio grinning before he did just that, fingers sliding up over Jamie’s arms and to his neck, making him lean down so Lucio could reach. It was familiar and comfortable and made Lucio’s heart beat faster, like they’d only been apart a few days instead of years. Just like that night. 

 

“I’ve missed you, Jamie.”  
“And I you, froggy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for staying with us guys! We had a blast working on this fic and are already planing another one! See you soon!


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